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reserve for use when wanted. Nickem now thinks it is wanted; so says, "I am not so much surprised as you are, Sir, at the horse having this corn; for if you remember, I told you when I saw him out, I thought he did not run level. When I had him shod, I did not like to cut his foot too much down to examine it; but when the Veterinary Surgeon did, he saw it very soon. I am sorry to find I was right after all. I wish we had had him examined at first: it would have saved trouble and time."
"Well," exclaims the owner in despair, "what is to be done now? I suppose we must sell him without warranting him."-"I will do that if you please," says Nickem; "but it will be a great loss and pity; had you not better take him home?"-" Home!" cries the thoroughly tired-out customer; no; I'll sell him at something; will you buy him, Mr. Nickem ?"-Nickem declares "he never buys a horse brought to him for sale: he always avoids that if possible." "Well," cries the owner, "can you send for any one who will buy him at once?"-" Why," says Nickem, "there is a man likely enough to buy him, but I must tell you he is a confounded rogue. Would you like to speak to him ?”. The owner would just now speak to the Old One, if he thought he would buy his horse. Nickem opens the ball with, "Mr. Meddler, I have sold a very fine horse for this Gentleman for fifty: he has been returned for a slight corn; will you buy him?" Meddler shakes his head: "No, thank you, Mr. Nickem, I lost enough by the last horse you persuaded me to buy of a Gentleman."- "Well," says Nickem, "but we must take off a five-pound note."-"Yes," says Meddler, you must take off a good many if I buys him."-" Nonsense !" exclaims the owner, now joining in: "come, what will you give for him?” "I'd rather not make an offer," says Meddler. By dint of persuasion, however, Meddler at last says, "Well, I'll give five-and-twenty, and no more." He then walks off." I told you, Sir," says Nickem, "he was a rogue; but I got a Gentleman out of his horse last week by selling him to the fellow so I hoped I could you; but I believe he did lose ten pounds; so he is worse than ever now."
"Come, now," says the Gentleman, "you can get out of the horse better of course than I can do: buy him yourself. What can you afford to give me?" After many objections, a good deal of sympathising with the owner, &c., Nickem says, "Well, Sir, if you really so earnestly wish it, I am not like Mr. Meddler; I don't think so much of the corn as he did: indeed I should think very little of it if I had not seen he did go a little tender when I first saw him out with you. I will take him off your hands at forty pounds; and if you can bring any friend who will give me the forty back, he shall be very wel come to him!"
I think my Reader will allow I have been as good a prophet in this as VATES. I have seen so many tricks of this sort, which have always ended very like this, that depend on it my supposed case is very near the mark.
It does not fall to the lot of any of us mortals to excel in everything, very few in anything. Mr. Batty, whose name I mentioned last month, is unquestionably one of the best horsemen in the world in his VOL. V. THIRD BEBIES, N. S—No, 25,
way; but he might not cut a figure in Leicestershire. I certainly did have a little hit at the mode in which a fox-hunter was generally turned out on the stage: but how Batty does that I do not know, never having seen his taste in this way. dare say he does right enough, for when all is so near perfection, no doubt his fox-hunting characters are the same, HARRY HIE'over.
JOURNAL OF SPORT IN THE WEST.
THE weather is made up of a bitter biting frost, and I am afraid hunting is at a stand still for some time; so I will take to writing, and begin, whilst my fingers are a little warm, the Journal of the Sport, humble as it is, of our glorious hounds. There is this to be said, most gracious Editor, that if they cannot command success, they deserve it.
Friday, November 1.- Mr. Trelawny's hounds.-Met at Glase Bridge. The weather was most boisterous, the East wind was howling, and the rain rattling away in disagreeable concert; yet, in spite of the severity of the weather, the hounds killed their fox near Marleigh. The boisterous weather, wind assisting rain, has, thank Heaven, raised the springs, and the wells are filling again. This has been the most droughty summer ever known by that ancient biped and veracious chronicler, the oldest washerwoman.
Tuesday, 5.-Met at Delamore; the weather very fine, and huntinglike to all appearance.-Unkennelled three foxes from Gibparks; ran one of them over Headon, through Brokurst and the Goodamoor furze brakes to Hemerdon Ball, and the plantations under it, when we came to a check, and the hounds were lifted to a halloo at Blackland: got there too late, and could but pick it along through Lucus to Spurham.Unkennelled a second fox from Knoll Wood; ran him at a rapid go over Blackalder Tor, and over Shaugh Moor, into Deerstone, where the pace was halted, and the fox earthed.
Friday, 8.-Met at Sheeps Tor village; the weather a hash of rain and wind; the scent bad.-Unkennelled first fox from Burrow Tor Wood; went down the Valley, through Meavy Flat Wood to Meavy Bridge, was headed, and turned short back over the same ground he went forward upon; then turned over Meavy Yeannaton to King Tor; some part of this very pretty, but it ended in the slows and a shower. -Second fox, from Knoll Wood, crossed the river Meu into Deerstone; crossed the Plym under Deerstone Rock to Shaughdon: the river, which was roaring along pretty rapid, checked the pack some time: then went slowly down the Vale to Bickley Bridge, near which the fox had loitered, and the hounds were clapped on close to him, but though but just afore them, they could not hunt him at all at all.
Tuesday, 12.-Met at Lyneham; warm-water sort of rain all day; scent, as usual, bad.-Hunted a fox from Hareston Wood to Chaddlewood; lost him, and did not find another.
Friday, 15.--Met at Ivy Bridge; very fine weather until the afternoon, when it rained a few very good scent.-Unkennelled from Stoford Wood, ran round the wood two or three times; at last went away to Rut Brake, broke over the wall, and away a most beautiful race over the moor, up by the Western and Eastern Beacon to Coryndon; then down the Vale by Owley, and on to the wood near the Carew Arms, Glase Bridge, where the hounds were close to his brush: then he went further down the Valley, crossed the turnpike-road, and crawled back by the Carew Arms and Glase Bridge, and up by Glase House, where a dog chased him; but the hounds were so close to him that we thought they would soon have him. "All right!" cried a knowing sportsman; "I'll bet ten to one on a who-whoop." Alas! we are down upon our luck; the fox got into a wet drain, and was taken out next day dead.-Second fox, from a furze-brake near King's, ran to Pilhill Wood, by the side of the river Erme, which he would not cross, not liking the torrent fashion of the stream; so turned back, and went through Wilke's Moor to Hall Plantation, where the fun ended; and as it was darkness all around, the hounds were invited to go to their kennel.
Tuesday, 19.-Met at Erme Bridge: the weather looked like hunting; the wind, S.E., changed to N. E.-First fox went away from Ermington Wood, through Hampson, Flete Park, Put Wood, Orchardton, Betland Wood, across country to Torr Wood, the hounds well at him: ran on through Wrinkle to Scoblescomb, where he gave us a specimen of the artful dodge by going under cliff, and turning short back he almost retraced his steps to Butland Wood, where he got into a strong earth, and we could not make him quit: luck against us again.-Second fox, late in the afternoon, from Moorshead Plantation, gave us a very pretty scurry over a lot of inclosures to Yealmpton Tor: in again, and there we left him.
Friday, 22.-Met at Bittaford Bridge; the weather fine for sport, but sport we had none. Drew Lee Brake, Corindon, Over Brent Wood, Skeriton, and King's Wood all a blue blank: at last, as soon as it was dark, just saved a total blankness by finding in Luscombe Wood, near Marleigh; but it was too dark to hunt him, and the hounds had a long way to their kennel, and the gentlemen sportsmen a long way to their cribs; so home we go.
Saturday, 23; a by-day. Met at Shaugh Bridge: had out abont twelve couples of the draft ones from the North Warwickshire.-Found a fox in Deerstone, and after a great deal of music, and a scurry or two round the wood, went away over Whigford Down, but he was too far before them to make any more quick music; so, after hunting him step by step for nearly an hour, we went home early.
Tuesday, 26.-Met at Plym Bridge; a sharp frost chilled the morning.-Found first fox in the wood near Plym Bridge; ran the Vale to Hen Wood, and almost to Bickley Bridge, where he was headed, and went away near Jump to Ashton Wood, where finis coronat opus.Second fox, from Brownson Wood: much row, but no go. Third fox, from Lee Wood, likewise soon lost: certainly the scent was very bad, and I suppose that neither Solomon nor Nimrod could have made it better: our Huntsman could not.
Friday, 29.-Met at Goodamoor, where the hospitable Mistress Treby
spread a breakfast board for all comers: a somewhat shady sort of morning some rain, but not much.-Drew the Goodamoor brake, and immediately found; but, alas! the fox, a great thundering youngster, was headed and chopped.-Second fox, from Watercombe, went to the drain near Blachford House, from which drain we bolted a brace of foxes, and the hounds went away all a view with the fresh one, over part of Hanger Down, Grange, Yodsworthy, Harrathorn, Dendalls, Hawns:-voted earthed-in truth, lost.-Late in the afternoon, in fog and rain, found the fourth fox at Pyles; ran over Stall Moor to Yealm Head, and down the Valley to Watercombe, where he went to ground, and it was too late to annoy him.
As my Journal has but a dull time of it this month, I send you a song which I heard a fox-hunting comrade sing at a jovial party lately. A BRUNCHEVAL.
Dec. 11, 1844.
A Club of good fellows, we meet once a year,
We drink in our cups the deserving alone.
A bumper, a bumper, ourselves right true men,
That man of his wine is unworthy indeed
Who refuses to mount a poor fellow in need,
Who keeps for nought else save to cram them with balls,
Such niggards as these we good fellows condemn,
Some riders there are so jealous of place,
They'll fling back a gate in their next neighbour's face;
Such jokers as these we good fellows condemn,
For coffee-gossip some red coats come out
Of all things they're prating save what they're about :
Such riders as these we good fellows condemn,
O give me the man to whom nought comes amiss,
Spite of falls and bad starts, who undauntedly still
A bumper, a bumper, fill up to the brim,
O give me the man who can ride through a rnu,
A bumper, a bumper, fill up to the brim,
O give me the man who himself goes the pace,
A bumper, a bumper, fill up to the brim,
NOTES OF THE CHASE.
The Earl Fitzhardinge's, Lord Redesdale's, and Lord Gifford's Hounds-capital Foxes in their Lordships' Countries-Details of some of the Ruus afforded during the preceding Month-On the use of Martingales, with Corroborations of HARRY HIGH'OVER'S Opinions thereon-Setting Wires for Hares and RabbitsSummary of the Season-Farewell to the Year 1844.
WHEN I made the observation in my last, that the countries hunted by the Earl Fitzhardinge, and Lords Redesdale and Gifford were stocked with foxes of an unusually wild, stout, and good sort, the season being at that period so completely in its infancy, I could not have anticipated, even with impressions of the most sanguine temperament, that my expectations would have been so extensively realized. Each of these celebrated packs has been uncommonly fortunate in finding specimens of the vulpine genus such as those of which our grandsires and great grandsires were wont to boast of in the "olden time." There is evidently a dispo